


Vodka or Loving You

by ericaismeg



Series: stiles/derek ficlets [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Drinking, Drinking Games, Drunk Dialing, Drunk Stiles, Drunk Texting, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Fox Erica Wants to Write This, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Never Have I Ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericaismeg/pseuds/ericaismeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“I’ve tried to drink you off of my mind too many times. I couldn’t decide what tasted more bitter; the vodka or loving you.”</i> -S.B</p><p>--<br/>Stiles tries to drink Derek off him. Let's just say love isn't always bitter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vodka or Loving You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> _“I’ve tried to drink you off of my mind too many times. I couldn’t decide what tasted more bitter; the vodka or loving you.”_ -S.B
> 
> ([Source](http://foxerica.tumblr.com/post/93737802172/ive-tried-to-drink-you-off-of-my-mind-too-many))
> 
> \------  
> For [Helen](http://bealen.tumblr.com) who requested it [here.](http://foxerica.tumblr.com/post/93793420917/please-write-that-fic-based-on-that-quote-you)
> 
> Thanks as always to my beta, [Another Erica](http://www.sayitthroughsong.tumblr.com)!

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

            “I don't know what you're talking about,” Stiles says. Yet he takes another swig out of his vodka bottle. He has mix somewhere, but he wasn't about to get up to look for it. Besides, he was drunk enough that the vodka went down without him scrunching his nose up in disgust. “I have never watched someone shower.”

            "We all know the story," Lydia says, shaking her head. "That was kind of mean, Scott. It's my turn now. Never have I ever...gotten a boner in class."

            "I hate you," Stiles mutters. He takes another swig.

            Allison laughs and asks, "Was it a random boner or did someone help you out?"

            Stiles freezes. He doesn't want to talk about the time that Derek was trying to send him a photo and clicked on one too many. Stiles had been sitting in Philosophy class when he'd received a photo of the symbol that someone had carved into Derek’s beautiful Camaro in an act of revenge—and a bonus photo of Derek's hot, sweet abs. Derek had only explained that he was doing a Before, During, and After shot of his abs to see if working out was affecting his abs. To be fair, it _had_ been Stiles suggestion, considering he wanted to know if being a werewolf made a difference.

            They had never spoken about it after that. However, Stiles had suffered through the rest of class with his legs crossed uncomfortably for camouflage and had raced back to his dorm room when the professor let them go. He didn't event stay to see if Danny wanted to study that day.

            “It was in high school,” Stiles lies casually. “Hormones and stuff—I _know_ it happened to you too, Scott. Why didn’t you drink?”

            His best friend takes a swig of whatever he’s drinking and then Scott smirks. “At least mine wasn’t in the locker room, Stiles.”

            “The _locker room_ , Stilinski? Really? Like what you see?” Jackson asks, being the typical douche he is.

            “Not you, Jackson.” Stiles groans, burying his face into his hands. “Oh god, _I forgot about thatttt_.”

            Scott laughs, because he’s an asshole like that sometimes. Stiles picks up a twig on the ground beside him and throws it at Scott.

            “Thanks, Stilinski,” Danny teases with a wink.

            “It was _one_ time, and it was only because—” Stiles starts.

            “—Derek,” Scott supplies when Stiles stops talking. “Derek came in from senior lacrosse practice and Stiles went weak in the knees, and drooled like a lost puppy.”

            “You’re one to talk!” Stiles says, glaring at him. “Don’t you remember the first time Allison took her shirt off in front of you?”

            Allison starts laughing now, because _she_ clearly remembers it. She waves her hands in the air, “Boys, boys, calm down. It’s my turn now.”

            “You suck,” Scott mutters.

            “You suck _more_ ,” Stiles says, but then they’re tapping their bottles together and taking another drink. Both of them are too drunk to care about being dicks. Stiles thinks it must have to do with the fact that he’d told the group about Scott’s secret poems for Allison. So really, he can’t blame Scott for taking some Derek shots.

            “Never have I ever…masturbated while thinking of someone in the pack!” Allison says, pleased with herself as she takes a drink.

            Stiles lifts the bottle to his lips, and tries to ignore the amusement on everyone’s faces. He watches as Erica and Boyd, who had been fairly wrapped up in each other take a drink. Jackson takes a drink and looks expectantly at Lydia, who doesn’t raise the bottle. Danny keeps his glass down too. Scott and Allison giggle when they drink, and surprisingly, Isaac raises his cup.

            “Whoa, whoa, _dude_ ,” Stiles says, waggling a finger at Isaac.

            “It’s not a big deal,” Isaac answers, shrugging.

            “My turn!” Erica says, clapping her hands together. All of the attention is on her and she snuggles into Boyd’s arm a little bit more. “Never have I ever…kissed the same sex.”

            Erica drinks, _Lydia and Allison drink_ , and oh my god, _Isaac_ drinks. So does Danny, but that’s a given. Stiles looks down at his bottle. It’s almost empty, and that irritates him. Erica’s lips curve upward and she nods to Boyd.

            “Never have I ever been in love,” Boyd murmurs quietly. He squeezes Erica’s hand.

            The only people who don’t drink are Danny and Stiles.

            “I call bullshit on Stilinski,” Jackson declares after a few seconds.

            “Whatever,” Stiles says, suddenly depressed. He’s not in love. Well, he is. But he’s not going to declare that to the pack. He grabs his sweater, standing up from the bonfire. He tugs it on in a rushed, awkward fashion, before he picks up his bottle. “Stilinski is going for a walk.”

            “Do you want company?” Lydia asks, frowning at him. “Beacon Hills isn’t exactly the safest.”

            “Yeah well, there’s a bunch of werewolves here. I’m sure one of you dumbasses will hear me if I shout,” Stiles mutters. He drinks the last of his bottle before he tosses it to the side and leaves the light of the bonfire.

            Derek never joins them on bonfire nights. Erica mentioned that the flames bothered him, and Stiles isn’t fucking surprised. No one wants to be hanging around, drunk, with the very thing that killed most of your family. Stiles stumbles through the woods and pauses on a rock. He pulls out his phone.

 

 **STILES:** _the bonfire sucks, you didnt miss anything  
_ **STILES:** _are you busy_

 **DEREK:** _yes  
_ **DEREK:** _are you drunk?_

 **STILES:** _obvs  
_ **STILES:** _bored_

 **DEREK:** _meet me at the road_

**STILES:** _kay_

            He stumbles towards the road, occasionally stopping to catch his breath. Seriously, why does the pack always insist on going to the beach that’s the farthest from the road?

            When Stiles gets to the ditch, Derek’s Camaro is already sitting there, waiting for him. He gets into the passenger seat and texts Scott to inform him that he’s going home. Scott replies quickly, but Stiles can’t focus on the words, so he assumes that everything’s fine.

            “Thanks,” Stiles mutters as he tugs his seatbelt on.

            “Anytime,” Derek responds. They pull out onto the road, and instead of heading into town, Derek drives towards the Hale House.

            “Bonfires suck,” Stiles tells him.

            “Yeah, why do you think I avoid them?” Derek asks.

            “Because of the flames,” Stiles says without thinking about it. He tenses up and glances over at Derek, who keeps his attention on the road ahead of them.

            After a minute of silence, Derek quietly says, “Yeah, because of the flames. What drinking game did you play tonight?”

            “Never Have I Ever,” Stiles answers, relieved that Derek isn’t mad at him. “It’s a dumb game.”

            “Did they pick on you again?” Derek asks, amused.

            “They always do,” Stiles says, frowning. “Everything was stuff that I’d done…or wanted to do.”

            “Like what?”

            “Like…stuff,” Stiles mumbles. “Thanks for coming to get me. It was couple city back there.”

            “I didn’t think Ethan went tonight,” Derek says.

            “He didn’t. Still—couple city.” Stiles yawns. “I wanna be a couple.”

            “Anyone in mind?” Derek asks.

            Stiles closes his eyes and answers, “Yeah. Yeah, someone.”

 

 **♚♞♚♞♚♞**  

 

            “Who’s Derek with?” Stiles asks, putting his hand out and stopping Scott from walking. Scott turns to see where Stiles is looking. Stiles pulls Scott behind a bush. “What are they talking about?”

            Scott focuses and quietly says, “They’re saying goodbye—and that it was great to get coffee. They should do it again sometime soon, because it’s been too long.”

            “What?” Stiles squeaks. “Derek was on a date?”

            Scott hits him in the arm, and hisses, “Keep it down, Stiles. Let’s go inside. He’ll have a harder time catching our voices with the traffic and stuff.”

            Stiles lets Scott drag him into the busy coffee shop, and when the door shuts, Scott asks, “Are you okay, buddy?”

            “I guess so,” Stiles mutters. “It’s hard, you know?”

            “Not really,” Scott admits. “But I can’t imagine it’s easy. You’ve been in love with him for years now.”

            “Is it really love though?” Stiles asks. “It doesn’t matter—I have feelings for him and he was on a date with another person. A girl. I’m pretty sure Derek doesn’t even swing my way. I’m _pathetic_.”

            “No, no, you’re not. Stiles, maybe you need to be a little more…forthcoming with your feelings. I don’t think he has any idea,” Scott tells him.

            Stiles rolls his eyes. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t. I took him shopping at _IKEA_ last week!”

            “Uh, we did the same thing a few months ago,” Scott points out.

            “But that’s _you_. When I went with Derek, I don’t know, it was different. We had so much fun and he even called the Hale House _our_ house once.” Stiles groans. “I teased him the entire trip about how he secretly wanted me to live with him, and he didn’t even deny it, Scott!”

            “ _Do_ you want to live with Derek?” Scott asks, after placing his order.

            “Maybe someday,” Stiles admits. He quickly asks for a coffee and then he follows Scott to wait for their drinks. “I don’t know. It’s not even like we’re more than friends. It’s whatever. Can we get drunk tonight?”

            “I was going to—”

            “He was on a date,” Stiles reminds Scott.

            “I’ll tell Ally that our plans have changed,” Scott informs him with a nod. “Whatever you need, buddy.”

            “Thanks.”

 

  **♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “Why is the room spinning? It’s going so fast. My skin is fuzzy. Is your skin fuzzy?” Stiles asks Scott. Or so, he thought he was asking Scott. Once the bar started to slow down in the spinning aspect, he realizes that Scott is no longer beside him.

            He turns to see that Scott has gone to the dance floor with Allison. Jackson is grinding against Lydia _hard_ , and Stiles is grateful he no longer has a crush on Lydia. It would’ve made him sick. Danny and Ethan are in a corner, making out. It’s more intense than Stiles would’ve liked to seen.

            Stiles spins around to the bar. “Another vodka shot?”

            The bartender frowns. “This is your last one, buddy.”

            “Sure, fine, whatever!”

            Stiles doesn’t care. He can still picture Derek talking to that small brunette girl. She’d been wearing a pale pink dress, and laughing. Goddammit. Stiles pulls out his phone when he grabs his wallet. He pays for his shot and it’s gone in seconds.

            He winces and opens up a familiar conversation.

 

 **STILES:** _ive been cut off_

 **DEREK:** _I’ll pick you up in fifteen  
_ **DEREK:** _don’t do anything stupid_

**STILES:** _you’re the fucking best d  
_ **STILES:** _couple city city city_

**DEREK:** _on my way_

 

Stiles puts his phone away. Derek would be here in ten. He always told people he’d be somewhere five minutes after he would be, so he could be on time. He’s a weirdo like that. He’s _Stiles’_ weirdo though. Or he should be.

            He waves at Lydia, who looks back at him. He points to the door and then waves goodbye. She waves back, and then moves in closer to Jackson. Ew.

            When Stiles gets outside, he pulls out his phone again.

 

 **STILES:** _ericaaaaaa_  

 **ERICA:** _stilesssss_

 **STILES:** _d is picking me up  
_ **STILES:** _bar cut me off_

**ERICA:** _did you want me to get you instead?  
_ **ERICA:** _I know being around Derek when you’re drunk makes you sad_

**STILES:** _no no  
_ **STILES:** _why can’t he love me back?_

**ERICA:** _who says he doesn’t besides you?  
_ **ERICA:** _have you ever talked to him about it?_

 **STILES:** _he doesn’t_

 **ERICA:** _he always picks you up when you’re drunk_

**STILES:** _because I’m fucking pack  
_ **STILES:** _fuck the pack_

**ERICA:** _you don’t mean that  
_ **ERICA:** _are you going to be okay?_

**STILES:** _one day_  
 **STILES:** _when college starts up again_  
 **STILES:** _and derek isn’t in my life every day_  
 **STILES:** _it hurts so much  
_ **STILES:** _I’m going to regret this tomorrow_

**ERICA:** _if you need me sugar_

 **STILES:** _I’ll call_

            “Stiles,” a familiar voice comes. His head fires up and he sees Derek—was it? Yeah, that was Derek—walking towards him. “C’mon, Stiles. Let’s get you home.”

            “I don’t want to go home,” Stiles informs him when Derek wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist. “I want to go to your bed.”

            “Okay,” Derek murmurs. “You can stay over.”

            “Really?” Stiles asks. “Your date won’t mind?”

            “Date? I didn’t have a date tonight,” Derek answers. “Your drinking habits are starting to worry me, Stiles.”

            “I’was an ‘mergency,” Stiles murmurs crawling into the passenger’s seat of the Camaro. His eyes flutter shut. “S.O.S. kind of emergency.”

            “Tell me about it tomorrow.”

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            Only Derek doesn’t hear why Stiles drank that night. He texts Scott to pick him up when he wakes up and leaves quietly.

            This summer has been hard. Stiles sees Derek _all the fucking time_ , and he’s reminded that Derek isn’t into him. It was easier when Stiles had been crushing on Lydia. She had been out of reach the entire time, and it hadn’t been all that serious. But things had changed the summer after the Nogitsune, before he went to college, when Stiles had spent a large amount of time with Derek.

            If he wasn’t sleeping at Derek’s house, Derek was curled up on the floor beside Stiles’ bed. The nightmares had been awful. He hadn’t been able to escape them, but Derek made sure he was always there when Stiles woke up screaming. Stiles had jokingly gotten Derek a huge dog bed for his room, and had been shocked when Derek had curled up on it.

            After that, Derek started sleeping in Stiles’ twin bed with him. Stiles had simply gotten used to Derek being there. Of course, he’d wonder what would happen if they held hands or if their lips met. It’s reasonable to think about it, to ponder it, to want it.

            But Derek always kept his hands to himself, and his lips out of reach. He never hit on Stiles, and whenever Stiles tried to flirt with him, Derek would take a step back.

            Stiles had fallen in love with Derek at some point. Madly, wildly, truly in love, but it seems like Derek only cared about him in a pack member kind of way. Pack is family and family means you protect one another at all costs.

            When he’d gone off to school, Derek would answer the phone at 3:30am if Stiles called because of a nightmare. He’d answer Stiles’ Skype calls in the evening when he’d be procrastinating, and Derek would even visit on weekends. They would talk about everything and anything.

            They argued about the existence of vampires, if mermaids really were as scary as everyone thought, or if a werewolf could become immune to wolfsbane. Derek would call Stiles ‘kid’ in a totally endearing way and Stiles would call him a ‘Sourwolf’ when the time called for it.

            He’s not sure what changed, but ever since he came home for the summer, Derek had been keeping his distance. He doesn’t show up to Pack Nights as often—which might be for the best, considering the fact that the pack teased Stiles about his feelings for Derek endlessly—and he doesn’t always answer Stiles’ texts.

            Unless Stiles is drunk.

            Then all of Derek’s new unwritten rules go out the window. He always picks Stiles up, always listens to his drunk ramblings, always carries him into the house when he passes out in the car.

            It’s the only time Stiles can feel close to Derek anymore—because Derek is taking care of him, as though he actually cares.

            So the next time Stiles gets drunk, he’s drinking alone. For whatever reason, he gets the bright idea to go to Derek’s. He starts walking, and gets about halfway there before he realizes it’s a lost cause.

            “ _Hello_?” Derek says when he answers the phone.

            “’Erek, I’m drunk again,” Stiles slurs a little. “Vodka is a man’s best friend, y’know.”

            “ _Stiles? Where are you?_ ”

            “Uhhhh,” Stiles says, spinning around. “By some trees.”

            “ _Stiles, where are the trees?_ ” Derek asks with more patience than Stiles thought he had.

            “Uh, well, I was going to come see you, and so—”

            “ _Stiles, stay put. I’m on my way._ ”

            “Thanks man. You’re so good to me,” Stiles tells him on a sigh.

            “ _Stiles, promise me. You’ll stay right where you are._ ”

            “I’d do anything for you, Derek,” Stiles answers. “Anything and everything and anything.”

            “ _Okay, Stiles, I’m coming. Stay on the phone with me, okay? And stay off the road_ ,” Derek says, sounding worried.

            Stiles glances around him. Derek should be worried. He’s in the middle of the road. He jogs off to the side, because Derek would be so pissed if he found Stiles on the road. “I’m off the road! You know, I really miss you.”

            “ _You’re going to see me in three minutes_ ,” Derek promises.

            “No, no, _no_. I miss _you_. I miss _us_. What happened this summer?” Stiles asks, pouting. He kicks a rock with his shoe and slides down to rest in the ditch. “Why are you so weird now?”

            “ _Stiles, I—_ ”

            “Did someone tell you?” Stiles asks, his voice almost coming out like a whimper. He closes his eyes. “Someone told you, didn’t they?”

            “ _Told me what?_ ” Derek asks. Stiles hears the sound of tires on gravel and turns to see that Derek’s Camaro has pulled up on the other side of the road. Derek doesn’t hang up yet though. “ _Stiles, who told me what?_ ”

            “No one, nothing,” Stiles mutters even though he can see Derek walking towards him across the road. “Nothing, nothing, nothing.”

            Derek doesn’t immediately try to help Stiles up. Instead, he slides down to join Stiles in the ditch. He still has the phone to his ear—which, thinking about it, so does Stiles. “Why do you think I’m weird now?”

            “You never want to hang out with sober me.” Stiles sighs heavily. There are tears threatening and he’s not even sure why. “Did I do something wrong?”

            “No,” Derek whispers. Only now does he hang up the call. He shoves his phone into his pocket before he takes the phone from Stiles’ hand. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

            “It sure feels like it,” Stiles mutters. “The only time I see you is when I’m drunk.”

            “I…” Derek lets his voice trail. He puts Stiles’ phone into his pocket as well before he leans into his friend. Stiles reaches out and grabs Derek’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. Derek glances down, but doesn’t say anything.

            “I miss my best friend,” Stiles whispers.

            It’s a long moment before Derek responds, “I miss mine too.”

            Stiles doesn’t remember getting into Derek’s car that night. He wakes up in Derek’s bed, with Derek’s arms wrapped around him, and closes his eyes again. He’s not moving. He’s going to enjoy it as long as it lasts.

 

 **♚♞♚♞♚♞**  

 

            “You’re drunk again,” Derek says when he opens the passenger door. Stiles frowns and stumbles into the car. He barely manages to shut the door and get his seatbelt on. “Why are you drunk again?”

            “Ethan broke up with Danny. He and Aiden are moving,” Stiles tells him. “Danny needed me and vodka shots were necessary.”

            Derek sighs. “Danny’s a big boy. He didn’t need you to get drunk with him, Stiles. You’ve been drinking far too much lately.”

            “I wonder why that is,” Stiles snaps. They hadn’t talked in two weeks. He glares at Derek. “Don’t you even care that I’m leaving in a week? I’m going back to college, and we’re barely even friends anymore.”

            “Stiles, we’re pack—”

            “Fuck you, we were friends first.” Stiles closes his eyes. “I don’t want a ride home. Let me out.”

            “No,” Derek says, firmly. “You’re too drunk. I’m taking you home.”

            “I can walk,” Stiles insists.

            “Too late, you called, and I picked you up. I’m driving you home, Stiles.”

            “I hate you.”

            Derek doesn’t respond. In fact, neither of them talks for the rest of the seven minute ride. When Derek pulls up in front of the Stilinski house, Stiles doesn’t move immediately.

            He turns to look at Derek. “You’re an asshole. I have no idea what the fuck fucking changed between us. I don’t know. Did you get a girlfriend? Are you afraid to hurt my feelings if you tell me? Because I’m a big fucking boy and I can fucking handle it, you jackass.”

            Derek’s eyebrows come together. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

            “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Stiles mutters before he throws the door open. He manages to get out without harming himself, and he slams the door shut behind him. “Asshole.”

            He doesn’t look back, but he knows that Derek waits until Stiles is upstairs in his bedroom before he pulls away from the curb. It’s comforting, knowing that he’s looking out for him even after Stiles has been a dick, and it makes Stiles wish he could hate him, even just a little.

            He’s so fucking screwed. _Fuck_.

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

            “Stiles, you should say goodbye to Derek,” Scott suggests lightly the day they’re heading back to the college.

            “What for?” Stiles asks. “He’s not my friend. He made that very clear.”

            “Stiles,” Scott says, softly. “I don’t want you to leave feeling this way.”

            “Oh hey look, it’s your boyfriend,” Stiles says, sarcastically. He points at Isaac, who’s walking up the driveway.

            “You finally told him?” Isaac asks, surprised.

            “Not exactly—” Scott starts.

            “Told me _what_?” Stiles asks.

            “That Scott, Allison, and I are all dating,” Isaac says, casually. He waits for the explosion from Stiles, but it doesn’t come.

            Stiles deflates and sighs. “I’m sorry. You haven’t told me because you knew I’d be an asshole about it. Honestly, I’m really happy for the three of you. Seriously. It’s great. I know that Isaac’s been crushing on you both for months now.”

            Scott blinks and then gives Stiles a wide grin. “Stiles, you are the _best_.”

            “And we only want you to be happy too!” Isaac says, clearly relieved. They have a small group hug, and then Isaac quietly adds, “You should talk to Derek.”

            “I will do no such thing.”

            “It’s alright,” Scott says. “We won’t pressure you. Are you going to be upset if I travel up with Isaac today though?”

            Stiles shakes his head. “No. I’m in a shit mood, and it’s probably best that I don’t bring anyone else down.”

            “Are you sure?” Scott asks.

            “Positive. And seriously, high-five Isaac. You got the girl _and_ the guy.” Stiles raises his hand, and Isaac seems pleased with his approval.

            A few minutes later, they say goodbye and head over to Scott’s place. Stiles is left alone putting the last box into his Jeep. He sighs heavily and then shuts the back door. Time to leave this hellhole.

            Maybe, though, he _should_ talk to Derek before he leaves.

            He heads towards the Hale House before he realizes that he has no idea what he’s going to say. Stiles decides he might as well go find out.

            Only when he pulls up in the driveway, a car he doesn’t recognize sits there. It only takes Stiles a second to realize that the rain from last night had washed away the tire tracks. That means the car had stayed here all night.

            As luck would have it, Derek and a brunette girl step out onto the porch. They’re laughing, and Derek leans into hug her. Only when he pulls away is it obvious that he catches Stiles’ scent.

            They make eye contact before Stiles is pulling out of the driveway.

            _Enough is enough_. Stiles is done.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            Stiles fumbles as he picks up the phone. It’s almost December. He hasn’t talked to Derek once since he’s been back at college. Stiles has stopped going to Pack Nights because it’s _too damn hard_.

            He dials a number he’d memorized over a year ago.

            It rings. And rings. And rings.

            “ _Hello, you’ve reached the voicemail of Derek Hale. Please leave your name, number, and message after the beep._ ”

            Stiles frowns.

            Derek never ignored Stiles’ calls. He never, ever, _ever_ ignored Stiles’ call.

            “ _Beep!_ ”

            “Derek—I guess this really means it’s over, huh? We’re really not friends anymore. You didn’t pick up. You always pick up. I…wow. I’ve tried to drink you off of my mind too many times. I couldn’t decide what tasted more bitter; the vodka or loving you.”

            Stiles pauses.

            “Isn’t that stupid? I tried to drink you off and yet, who do I always turn to when I’m drunk? _You_. I guess vodka’s more bitter.” Stiles frowns. “I guess…I guess this is it. I hope you have a good Christmas, Derek Hale.”

            He hangs up, only to stare down at his phone.

            Trying not to remember this time last year, when he’d call Derek up—sober—and they had talked about the newest cupcake creation Derek was trying out. Stiles teased him about mailing some cupcakes to his dorm room. The following night, Derek had shown up at his door with cupcakes and a goofy smile.

            How had they lost that?

            _Why_ had they lost that?

            Stiles throws his phone across the room, it hits the wall beside his bed and falls through the crack onto the floor.

            He doesn’t move to retrieve it. Instead, he picks up his vodka bottle and takes one last swig. It’ll be the last time he drinks for a while. Stiles is getting sick of it, because it hasn’t made him feel better yet.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞ 

 

            He notices the missed calls from Derek the morning afterward, but doesn’t call him back. He listens to the voicemail that Derek left though. It’s short.

            “ _It’s Derek, call me back. Please._ ”

            Stiles deletes it. He knows what he had said. He remembers that stupid voicemail he’d left on Derek’s phone. He doesn’t want to acknowledge that it ever happened, so he drinks a bottle of water and a protein shake on his way to class.

            It’s the last class before his exams start up, and Stiles isn’t happy with himself.

            He slides into a seat beside Isaac and doesn’t make eye contact.

            “Dude, are you okay?” Isaac whispers.

            “Fine, perfectly fine,” Stiles answers. He ignores Isaac’s worried looks for the rest of the class.

            When he heads back to his dorm room, he’s pleased and slightly guilty that he had managed to rush out of the room before Isaac had had a chance to catch him without using his werewolf abilities.

            It’s not until Stiles enters his dorm room that he senses something’s off. His instinct is to look at his window, and that’s where he sees the quick movement.

            He yanks the window open and shoves the screen out. It’s caught by a familiar hand, and Stiles sticks his head out. “Derek.”

            “You almost lost school property,” Derek says, blinking. “You would’ve had to pay for a new screen.”

            “No, because I knew you’d save me that precious fifteen bucks. What do you want?”

            “Let me in?” Derek asks, quietly.

            “Fine,” Stiles answers. He watches as Derek awkwardly comes through his window on the fourth floor. “What if someone saw you?”

            “I…I didn’t really care,” Derek admits. “Besides, no one noticed.”

            “Jesus,” Stiles mutters. He watches as Derek carefully puts the screen back into the window and then Stiles crosses his arms for when Derek turns back to him. “What do you want?”

            “Your voicemail,” Derek starts, “it raised some questions. I talked to Erica.”

            “ _Great_.”

            “Stiles—I didn’t know. The girl you saw me with was my distant cousin. She was visiting and she was mad because I refused to join her pack. And I, uh,” Derek runs a hand through his hair. “Are you still angry at me?”

            The way he’s looking at him deflates Stiles instantly. “No, I’m not angry. I never was. I was hurt, disappointed, upset. Not angry.”

            “Oh. That’s worse. Much worse,” Derek mutters. He sits down onto Stiles’ bed. “God, this place smells like you.”

            “Yeah,” Stiles answers because he’s not sure what else he can say to that.

            “We have to clear some stuff up,” Derek informs him. “Right now. Would you sit beside me?”

            “No,” Stiles says. “But I’ll listen.”

            Derek nods, accepting that as is. “Last summer—your first year in school—it was…”

            “Incredible?” Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow.

            “Incredible, wonderful, scary,” Derek says.

            “Scary?”

            “I was terrified the entire time, Stiles.” Derek rubs the back of his neck. “I—Isaac’s outside.”

            “ _Stiles_!” Isaac’s voice comes from the other side of his door. Isaac’s pounding suddenly. “Stiles, open up right now!”

            “Use your goddamn werewolf senses and sense that I’m _busy_ right now,” Stiles says.

            “Ew, no, I never focus on your room because I did that once and regretted the hell out of it!” Isaac shouts.

            Stiles snorts. And then he opens the door a crack. “Derek’s here.”

            Isaac’s eyes go wide. “Oh, _oh_. I’m leaving. Hi Derek! Bye Derek! You know where to find me if you need me, Stiles. I’ll be in my room, okay? I won’t leave until I get the okay that you’re okay.”

            It surprises Stiles, and touches him so deeply, that he pulls the door open more to wrap his arms around Isaac. Maybe they hadn’t had the best start to their friendship, but Stiles couldn’t imagine the past few months without Isaac around. “Thanks.”

            “Anytime,” Isaac tells him with a nod. “Scott’s been teaching me how to be a best friend.”

            “You’re excelling at it,” Stiles promises. Then he goes back into his dorm room and shuts the door. His eyes meet Derek’s. “So, you were scared?”

            “Yeah,” Derek says. “I never meant for any of this to happen. But Stiles, you scared me.”

            “ _I_ , skinny, defenseless Stiles, scared _you_ , Big, Mean Sourwolf Derek?” Stiles sputters. He can’t help but smile a little.

            “I didn’t want to lose you,” Derek mutters. He’s looking away now. “And then I fucked it up and lost you anyway. Your voicemail last night…it made me think I had a chance.”

            “Why’s that?” Stiles asks.

            “Because you said that you loved me,” Derek answers, meeting his eyes again. “You’ve never said that before.”

            “What are you talking about? That’s _all_ I used to say to you.”

            “No,” Derek denies.

            “Derek, I used to tell you that you made me feel safe. You were my home. I couldn’t sleep without you. I told you that I didn’t want to learn how to be without you—that you meant the world to me. I specifically remember telling you that you were the only one who made me feel better. How does that _not_ scream _I love you_?”

            “Stiles, you never said the words.”

            “Because you never said them,” Stiles points out.

            “But I thought you knew,” Derek says, quietly. “There’s no one else in the pack that I would spend every night with. I wouldn’t have crawled into Scott’s bed if he was having nightmares—Ally would’ve. You’re the only one who knows me, who knows all my deep dark secrets and still stuck around. I would die over and over and over again if it meant that you could keep living. If it meant you could be happy.”

            “I was happy,” Stiles says, sitting down beside him. “I was happy when I was with you.”

            “I don’t want you to drink anymore.”

            “I gave it up last night,” Stiles assures him.

            “I don’t want you to feel bitter about loving me,” Derek tells him. “I don’t want to have fucked this up.”

            “What happened?” Stiles asks, realizing for the first time that he had never taken the time to ask.

            Derek shrugs. “I don’t know. I freaked out. You were suddenly going to be there all the time again, and I didn’t know how you felt, but I knew that I was crazy about you. But you had finished your first year of college and you hadn’t done anything with anyone else and I don’t want you to hold yourself back from other people because of me. I don’t want to take away that from you. You shouldn’t settle.”

            “It wouldn’t be settling with you,” Stiles tells him. “It wouldn’t be settling. I didn’t do anything with anyone else because you’re the only person I want to be with.”

            There. He finally said it.

            Derek’s eyes widen, only slightly, and then he looks down at his hands. His mind is moving suddenly, Stiles can sense it. “What if I’m not good enough for you?”

            Stiles snorts. “Of course you’re not good enough for me. You’re _too_ good for me.”

            “Stiles—”

            “Hey, if you’re looking to bark up this tree, I’m not turning you away. Only an idiot would do that,” Stiles tells him. “Derek, I have been in love with you for two years now. At the very least. If I wasn’t sure of that, I would’ve slept around. I would have dated someone else. But not once did I meet anyone who could come close to even comparing to you.”

            “Wow,” Derek says. “Stiles, I don’t know what to say.”

            “Loving you isn’t bitter,” Stiles rushes to say. “Loving you is the best thing that could have happened to me. I stopped having nightmares, because I always knew you’d be there for me. I started drinking because it was an excuse to see you, because I knew you’d be there. You’re always there for me, and I want to start being there for you—properly.”

            “Stiles,” Derek says, firmly this time. “I know that I backed off. I know that I stopped talking to you. I know that we stopped being _us_ and I’m not sure we can get that back again. But I want to try, because Stiles, I’m in love with you too.”

            “You are?”

            “Of course, you idiot.” Derek smiles. “You make me better.”

            “You make _me_ better,” Stiles echoes. “I’m sorry I was such a dick.”

            “Same,” Derek murmurs. “Why is this so hard for us?”

            “Why _isn’t_ this hard for us?” Stiles says, wiggling his eyebrows down at Derek’s crotch.

            Derek shoves him playfully. “Don’t be gross. We’re having a moment here.”

            “Are we now?” Stiles asks, leaning into Derek.

            “Yeah, now shut up.”

            “Those are—”

            Derek doesn’t learn what ‘those are’ because they’re kissing and things feel as though they might work out for the better. It’ll be tough, and it’ll take hard work to get to a place where they’re both fully okay again, but Stiles knows that neither of them are going anywhere. Not anymore. Maybe never again.

            “By the way,” Stiles says a few minutes later, “I don’t think your workouts are doing anything. Your abs are still god-like.”

            Derek laughs and kisses Stiles again. Whether he worked out or not, Derek’s abs stayed the same. Stiles might curse him and his werewolf powers later, but for now, he wants to keep kissing him silly.

            Stiles pulls away to do one last thing.

 

 **STILES:** _okay_

 **ISAAC:** _finally_

 

**♚♞♚♞♚♞**

 

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things:  
> · Firstly, this wasn't written to my best ability. It's kinda super underdeveloped but I don't particularly care for a many reasons. I'm looking at most of my writing as a learning curve, and trying out different things that I haven't done before. If I had time and the energy (which, sadly, I don't), I would've totally tried to develop this more. It would've been much, much longer and probably much darker. There are some things that I left up in the air, I suppose, but I kind of like it that way.
> 
> · I'm taking basic prompts and I'm attempting to write them. This will be a #Fox Erica Wants to Write This series - because that's the tag I use on my [tumblr](http://www.foxerica.tumblr.com) for prompts/writing ideas/etc. 
> 
> · **If you would like to leave me a prompt please do so[here](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1-urLkiJAkcFOEtqKpRH7xh9u3an8bAyBcIuhckmQejo/viewform).**
> 
> · Surprisingly, I have a few more stories that, again, are probably severely underdeveloped, but I'm going to post anyway because I miss ao3. I know, I know, bad Erica. But whatever.


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